


from eclipse to light

by eulyhne_syios



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort and Fluff, Injury Recovery, M/M, Realistic, Recovered Memories, and more in the notes, and treatment, mentions of medical processes, soft markhyuck, some good days some bad days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-26 22:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eulyhne_syios/pseuds/eulyhne_syios
Summary: Follows the scattered hours, days, weeks as Lee Donghyuck recovers from his injury.





	1. i. dec 19/18, 2:37 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates may be slow, check endnote

Something soft yet solid knocks against his fingers as his eyes regain their sight. Except for a small bloom of light from his right side, the room swims with blue shadows. Nothing looks clear enough for him to discern where he is, but when Haechan moves his hand around the soft, solid thing, finds an ear, at least he recognizes something. Or someone, he should say.

 

 _Mark…?_   He tries to say it out loud, but the sound gets caught. Too dry —water, he needs water. _Shit_ , he grit —grinds his tongue over the roof of his mouth, trying to draw enough saliva to the back of his throat. Swallows. Winces against the feeling of sandpaper. _Okay, let’s go again._

 

“M-Mark…?” The K cuts off short, collapses into shallow breath.

 

But he feels his face twitch, nose stiffen, sharp inhale, blinking lashes. It registers —Mark twists his face up, the little light that there is, refracted inside his pupils, multiplies. There’s too much light in there, he must have been crying earlier. When he breathes, surging forward, Haechan’s face in his hands, it comes out ragged, clogged —confirms that.

 

“You’re...you’re…” His mouth moves but can’t seem to form words. Sighs shakily. “...sorry...I, um...n-need a second…”

 

The other wrinkles his nose, snorting softly. Laughs. “-eww…don’t get snot all over this kiyomi face…”

 

The chuckling after feels a little off. “-yeah, haha, gross.”

 

"So…" Hyuck twirls a piece of Mark's hair between his fingers. “-how long’ve you been…?”

 

Copies him, absently twisting a lock too, not meeting his eyes. “-dunno, really...I think we got here at 11 pm and um, then I sorta fell asleep so…”

 

“Wow,” He grins, raises his brow. “-what’d I have to _do_ to get all this attention from…”

 

But he stops when he sees Mark’s eyes again. It’s not funny —Mark’s not going to joke about it, he can’t. This time, it’s not a game anymore. Hears him breathe again, glancing towards the light. 

 

“I wasn’t here the whole time, Hyuck —they had to operate on you the minute you got here —they didn’t allow anyone to come in —it was a different room, like ER or some shit —we had to wait on the other side of the door, I don’t know how long it took but it felt like hours before they…”

 

“What in the…” Hyuck shakes his right arm awake and struggles to tear off the sheet to check what the hell happened to his… “- _nngh_ — _shh—_  what in the living _f_ …”

 

“No — _stop_ it —stop it, okay?” Mark locks a palm over his right thigh. “-your right calf is in a splint right now —you _can’t_ move it —you gotta wait until the swelling goes down, then they’ll put you in a cast—

 

“- _Cast_ —

 

"-Hyuck—

 

"-Mark, cut the _sh_  — _quit joking around_ —” Swallows, throat caught again, then softens his voice when he sees his hurt expression again. “-look, hey, hey, come on,” Laughs. “-let’s catch the van home so we can catch like four more hours of sleep before tomorrow’s…”

 

Trails off, notices Mark shaking his head, barely appearing as movement.

 

“No. No, that’s not…” Just shakes his head, hand against his leg to keep him from moving. “-you...you can’t…” Just keeps shaking his head. “-n-not tomorrow’s…”

 

“What?” The other scoff-chuckles. “-is the show cancelled from bad weather or someth—

 

"-Hyu—

 

"-Look, I, I don't understand —w-what's going _on_ —

 

“-You. Can’t. Go.” He’s never heard each word so distinct and separate coming from Mark’s mouth. The guy always strung them all together, muffling out some of the consonants, in his carefree, cool kind of way. “-you. Can’t. _Go._ Okay...? You gotta stay here.”

 

Looks at him, almost rolls his eyes. “-okay, alright, alright, I’ll skimp out on a day and hope Lee Soo-man doesn’t axe my ass, but then I gotta—

 

“-Lee Soo-man isn’t going to _axe your ass_ , you idiot — _he’s_ the one who’s gonna release a statement in a few hours about you going—

 

“-Going on _what_ —

 

“-On _hiatus_.” He blurts out in English. Doesn’t even know if Haechan remembered what it meant. Breathes, pushes hair out of his face. Keeps his palm over his forehead. “-you’re not staying here for just one night, Hyuck.”

 

“Mark, what on _earth_ are you talking abou—

 

“- _God, Hyuck_ —you _fractured_ your tibia—

 

“-Speak _English_ or _Korean_ —I don’t know what the fuck _that_ means, oka—

 

“- _It’s broken_ — _you broke your leg, okay_ —?!”

 

The room falls silent.

 

He feels water against his cheeks, almost saltless. Hits him by surprise, doesn’t even feel the sting. Hadn’t cried in so long, almost forgot how it felt. Faked tears so often for laughs, almost thought they were fake again.

 

But this time, they’re real. They stop falling after two, but they’re real. Snorts. Maybe his body’s conserving water so he doesn’t pass out from dehydration or something.

 

Doesn’t say anything, not for a while. Just runs the words through his head over and over again. Eyes the window, the slant uncovered by the curtains looking out onto the street. Only thing telling him there were cars outside being the distant _whoosh_ , the lights pausing, then shifting by.

 

“Broken, huh…?” The sound of his voice oddly fitting. Chuckles. “-shit, Mark, can you at least get me a glass of water?”

 

The other looks at him a little longer, then squeezes his fingers gently, mumbles a quiet “okay”. Mumbles another “wait here” before he leaves the room, leaving the smallest gap of light by the door.

 

**...**

 

**3:12 am**

 

“So how bad was it?” When Mark gives him a confused look, Hyuck just wrung his shoulder teasingly, splashing some water over himself. “-come on, spill. Gimme all the gory details.”

 

“What —you don’t remember?”

 

“Nah, hyung —I blacked out and my brain’s all mushy now…” He laughs. “-maybe it’ll be like the movies where it all comes back in bits and pieces or some shit…”

 

“Okay, where’d you want me to star—

 

“Hey, hey —” Pinches one of Mark’s cheeks, snorting. “-don’t cry on me, okay? Jeez, Renjun was right about you…”

 

“Whadda’ya mean—

 

“Like nothing’s changed —sure, now you can drink alcohol and shit, but you’re still _one big baby_ —

 

Almost jumps onto the bed to tackle him —then laughs, letting Hyuck sissy-slap him away. Snorts when he hears the other wincing from knocking his pinky into the edge of his glasses. Shakes his shoulders with both hands now. “- _come on_ , Mark —hurry up and _tell me_ —I wanna know, I wanna _know_ —

 

Still laughing. “-wanna know _what_ —

 

“-All the obvious awesome shit —come on, _how much blood was there_ —was there like _oceans_ of it _everywhere_ —Oh, my God, was there like, a _whole_ _bone_ sticking ou—

 

“-God, Hyuck, you’re _so_ gro—

 

“-Did I scare the shit outta Chenle —oh, come on, please, please,  _please tell me I scared the shit outta Chenl_ —

 

“-Aw, jeez, Hyuck, I’m like, _laughing and crying at the same ti_ —

 

**...**

 

**5:53 am**

 

It’s another three glasses of water and six acetaminophens before Hyuck’s out again. They’d laughed for a while before he complained of a throbbing, grinding pain in his lower leg and Mark rummaged hastily for the pills stashed in one of the bedside drawers. Grimaced a couple times at the safety lock, finally getting it open on his third try. Avoided looking at Haechan’s face as he swallowed the last two down with a gulp of water.

 

Had to leave the room again when the masks returned to apply the cast. The swelling had gone down. Didn’t take that long this time —maybe things felt way shorter now that he’d actually got to talk to Hyuck earlier. Time was strange, that was for sure.

 

Later, he’d wanted to get Tylenol too to help with sleep, but the doctors had advised against it. Didn’t want anything to worsen the internal bleeding. They were still working on that.

 

Looked over the boy’s sleeping frame, made sure his leg was properly elevated.

 

Stood up, but didn’t want to leave. Wished he could do more. Always wished he could do more, sure, but this time it was...

 

Doesn’t notice he’d dozed off for a couple seconds until his eyes refocus, the room tilting for another few counts. Feels his phone vibrating, turns it off, knowing the dozens of unread texts are from his members. 

 

Stares at nothing for a while. Leaves after the room feels solid again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's my take on his injury as of now:
> 
> so based off of the official statement SM released, i think that most likely haechan has a spiral fracture along his tibia shaft (near the middle of the calf bone), possibly along with a sprained ankle. spiral fractures occur due to a strong twisting motion and it was mentioned he'd either twisted/sprained his leg before being diagnosed with a fractured tibia. something else i've been suspecting for a while (and still believe) is that this fracture is likely something that built over time (i.e stress fractures due to overuse/overtraining). he may have had a painless grade i or ii stress fracture for a while (over 50% of stress fractures occur to athletes such as dancers, runners etc.) and a motion in the dance practice that involved fast turning/twisting may have aggravated the stress fracture into the more severe spiral fracture. whether or not he has an open fracture (i.e bone protruding from the skin) is debatable, but i suspect he might, if this is serious enough that he is exempted from year-end activities and possibly a number of new year ones as well.
> 
> i went over two other possibilities for the tibia fracture --either tibia plateau (near the knee) or tibia pilon (near the ankle) but those two are less likely because the causes for these injuries are more commonly high-energy causes (i.e vehicle collisions, motorcycle accidents, falling from great heights). also, tibia pilon is apparently very difficult to treat and full recovery is not guaranteed --if haechan had a career-ending injury, someone would probably leak that information somehow. considering, he's in a cast already and the other two types of tibia fractures require longer, more complicated surgery before casts, it's not likely he has either of those. 
> 
> so, i'm assuming SM is reporting honest information about his injury (rather than hiding that his injury was actually from a car accident or something) and based off of that, i'm going to try to write an accurate account of his possible recovery process. i'm continuing to gather research as i write, so whenever there's extra info i think may be helpful, i'll include it in the notes. 
> 
> lastly, the reason i'm writing this in the first place is because i think comfort can be found in gathering more information on an unfamiliar, possibly uncomfortable topic and creating a positive, reflective narrative from it. however, if reading this story makes you uncomfortable, then by all means don't read it, i completely understand. we all have our own ways of coming to terms with upsetting events and that should be respected. thanks for reading :)


	2. ii. dec 20/18, 7:16 am

“Psst. Haechan.” His nose bristles at the voice in his ear. Starts sniffing at the incredible aroma entering his nostrils. “-yo, Haechan, wake up.”

 

Blinks, rubbing his eyes. “-Johnny…? Uhh, what…”

 

“Surprise!” Starts noisily crinkling the bright, colourful package before him. “-hey, look at what I got for you.”

 

His bleary eyes rove over the unfamiliar curly characters —then zeroes in on the mouth-watering snack images on the center of the bag, bouncing his shoulders up and down. “-ohhh, it’s the _miang-kum_ flavoured chips from when we were in Thailand!”

 

“And _more_ where that came from —” Shifts to reveal the giant plastic bag filled with snacks crowding his bedside table. “-so I got all the ones we had in that Thai snacks video we made —tried to find some of your faves —like that,uh, rice cracker with spicy pork floss thing, and some new ones too—

 

“Aw, waaaaaa—” Throws his arms around Johnny’s neck, shaking his head happily. “-ugh, Johnnyyyy, saranghaeyooo~~~”

 

“Okay, hey, hey,” After the younger finally releases him. “-which one do you wanna open first?”

 

“That one! The one you’re holding right now!”

 

“Okay, wait, lemme open it…” Does a dramatic show of tearing open the bag to make him laugh. _It was already open, hyung_ — _you’re so silly, haha…_ “-got it!”

 

“Dongsaeng, ah…!” Copies what he did in video, making a big O with his mouth. The other laughs, about to pop in a chip when—

 

“ _Yo_ —what are you _doing_ —

 

Mark bursts into the room, eyes huge. Moves fast, whaps the bag straight outta Johnny’s hands and the chips hit the curtain, scattering all over the floor.

 

Hyuck looks at him, incredulous. “-he was _feeding_ me so I don’t die from _starvation,_ dumbass — _what’re you do_ —

 

“Johnny —the doctors _said_ not to feed him anything until at least a few hours after the surgery —also, he shouldn’t be eating solid food for several days aft—

 

Hyuck’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “-wh — _several days_ —

 

“That’s only if the surgery interfered with his gut, like gastric bypass or some shit,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “-yeah, bro —I read the front desk pamphlets, too. Look —people usually don’t even feel hungry for the first few days so if Hyuck wants to eat then let ‘im ea—

 

“-Okay, fine, here—” Hands him a Starbucks. “-venti iced water —you can have fluids, also, it’ll help with constipa—

 

“Ughh, Mark-hyung —you’re such a lameass _nerd…_ ” The younger rolled his eyes, sulking sipping the boring liquid. The other just looks at him, arm crossed. “-and Imma _be_ a lameass nerd if that means keeping you from throwing up and nausea—

 

“- _Pssh_ ...I’m not _that_ weak, Mar—

 

“-You could've had _plate osteosynthesis_ , you know what that means?” Continues when the other just blinks at him. “-it _means_ , most likely you woulda got interfragmentary compression screws, neutralization plates _and_ a low contact-dynamic compression plate inside your right leg —you’re like, _two steps away_ from being Iron Man, dude—

 

“-Johnny, can you please get Mark to, like, stop —he’s trying to scare me with Hospitalnese again—

 

“-Hyuck, I’m _serious_ —you need to give your body at least _some time_ to adj—

 

“I bet  _you_ don’t even know what all those big fancy words mean, you big meanie—

 

“Well, I _don’t_ , but I _do_ know that you need to take things _slowly_ —

 

“-So I can still drink and stuff, right?”

 

“Yeah,” The other nods, sighing, arms still crossed. “-clear fluids, so nothing with fruit chunks and—

 

“-Can I have ice cream.”

 

“-That’s not a—

 

“-Well, it’s not a _solid_ either, ‘specially _soft serve_ —

 

“-Why d'you gotta be so _difficult_ , man—

 

“Okay, fine —get me a jumbo blue raspberry slushie, Markeu, come on—

 

Snatches the Starbucks away, leaves the room, muttering passive-aggressive drivel. Haechan turns to Johnny, shaking his head.

 

“Seriously, who _replaced_ Mark Lee with some salty-ass Ajumma from Hell…”

 

Shrugs. “-he just cares about you.”

 

Pauses. Then pouts, looking over at all the snacks he can’t have. “-not enough to lemme eat some food or ice cream.”

 

“Haechan…”

 

**dec 21/18, 6:23 am**

 

When his phone buzzes, Hyuck smacks a hand down on the bedside table, blindly searching for the off button. So Mark was sending him weird-ass texts lately, like _yo dude, have you farted yet?_ pretty much every few hours or so and always ending their chats now with not only _ttyl_ but also  _hyfs :)_ —which translated to _hope you fart soon :)_

 

Yeah, so he’d read somewhere too that passing gas meant that your digestive system was going back to normal and you’d be able to have regular bowel movements again, but sometimes Mark was just plain embarrassing. He’d messaged Jaehyun about it, but the guy just thought it was cute (as did Johnny, Doyoung and Taeyong —proof that his hyungs were all weirdo grandpas from the Goguryeo period or some shit…)

 

Anyways, so no, he actually _hadn’t_ farted quite yet (and it was beginning to oddly affect his self-esteem now because how lame do you gotta be to have to _motivate_ yourself to fart…). Winces at the bad leg joke he just made at himself. Shook his head —two days in here and he was already starting to go bonkers.

 

So, he’d just passive-aggressively replied: _no bby, haven’t farted yet_ — _still waiting for that sweet sweet gas to hit me up tho *praying hands emoji* *ok hand emoji* *party horn emoji* *kissing face emoji* *kissing face emoji*_

 

He’d thought that would annoy Mark enough to shut up about it, but _no_ —it only added fuel to the fire (or jingle bells to the sleigh, he supposed…) and when he woke up every so often from a nap, he’d see his bedside table redecorated with new “gifts” —like, stool softeners, fiber laxatives and of course, the dreaded _prune juice_. When he’d taken one sip from that thing, Hyuck decided it was liquid torture.

 

He'd then texted for Mark to send him something actually palatable like a fruit basket or something. The dude replied three minutes later with _in a few days bby *kissing face emoji* *kissing face emoji* *sparkling heart emoji*_

 

He sighed. Was that idiot really gonna clown him for everything now…?

 

**...**

 

**11:19 pm**

 

“Yo, Haechan.” Another voice whispered into his ear. “-Haechan, wake up.”

 

“Nngh, uhhh....” Knits his eyebrows together, wincing as someone brightened the lamp. Wipes his eyes, blinking. “-okayyy, Taeil-hyung, look —I love you, but what are you doing…”

 

But the guy’s still busily getting stuff out of his bag —a gym bag it seemed, judging from the vague dark shape, shifting over the prescription drugs along his table to fit some items, settling the rest on the floor. “-okay, Haechan, get ready,”

 

“F-For…?”

 

“Okay, put your arms out, hands up, you gotta get ready for this ball,”

 

The other still squints at him, who appears to be holding a basketball in his hands. “-w-wait, hyung, what…”

 

“I’m serious, Haechan —flex those guns —you gotta get ready—

 

“It’s just a _basketb_ —

 

Sucks in a fast breath when the ball goes in his hands, sheer weight of it nearly sacking his face flat. “-jeez, hyung —I almost broke my nose —what _is_ this —heaviest ball I’ve ever held in my li—

 

"It's only 8 pounds—

 

"- _Only 8 pounds—_

 

“-Okay, so Mark told me about your flatulence problems—

 

“- _Oh, my God, he_ —

 

“-Lack of exercise can cause your digestive system to slow down —don’t look at me like that, I’m serious —WebMD Korea, okay?” Gestures to the ball. “-just ‘cause your leg’s temporarily outta business doesn’t mean the rest of your body is —I wanna see you do 10 chest presses with that medicine ball right now—

 

“-Wha— right _now_ —

 

“-Did I stutter—

 

“-It’s  _1 am_ in the morning—

 

“-And usually the time I do my evening workout—

 

“-Yeah, Yuta told me—

 

“-10 chest presses now —you wanna see that body waste away into a cheese string—?”

 

“Since when were you this sav— shouldn’t I be _resting_ —

 

“ _Actually,_ daily exercise helps you recover faster —as long as you don’t budge the injured region, everything else is open for movement.”

 

“Ughhh…”

 

“10 chest presses, now.” Scoffs when the younger completes one. “-oh, _come on,_ you didn’t even _move_ your biceps —you just flicked your _wrists_ —

 

“-Hyunggg…”

 

“You see this spot?” Gestures at a space about one foot above his chest. “-pretend it’s the face of somebody you’re mad at right now —okay, who’re you mad at right n—

 

Looked to side, pouting. “-Mark…”

 

“Okay, pretend this is Mark’s face and gimme 10, come on—

 

Makes a yucky face at him, but sighs, pushing the best passive-aggressive 10 he could muster. Tosses the ball onto the floor afterwards, watching it bounce contemptuously away like it had a personality or something. Almost flips it the bird when it bangs into the heater. Taeil shook his head wearily, smiling.

 

“Good job, Haechan,” Musses his hair, laughing when the younger lightly smacks it away. “-don’t gimme that weak shit, hyung —gimme a cheek kiss, or someth—

 

Feels all warm and fuzzy after he does. Sighs, satisfied.

 

“Okay, I’ve set up the rest of the equipment down here by the foot of the table,” Taeil continued, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. “-I’m gonna create a light workout regimen for you tonight, when I get home, and tailor it to your progress. If you wanna get better soon, you gotta help your own body out, got it?”

 

“Got it. Thanks, hyung.” Looked up at him, smiling a bit apologetically. “-sorry for being a butt like two minutes ago…”

 

“Nah, it’s okay. It shows you still got energy, you know —usually this kinda stuff really gets people down, but so far, you seem to be handling it pretty well,”

 

“You think so?”

 

“I know so,” Winks, dimming the lamp again. “-okay, I gotta go —Yuta wants me to stop by the convenience store to get more midnight snacks…” Shook his head, _how the heck does that guy eat so much junk and never get fat…_

 

“Okay, hyung.” He nodded, setting back into a more comfortable position, watching Taeil turn into a silhouette by the doorway. “-good night.”

 

“Good night, Haechanie,”

 

“Oh, hyung, wait, wait—

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You see that plastic bag over there?” The other moves over, sinks down, turning to him, nodding. “-can you get me that pack of miang-kum flavoured chips—

 

“But the doctors said you can’t—

 

“I _know_ …” He rolled his eyes as the other walked over with them anyways. “-I just wanna smell it…”

 

Breathes in that aroma again and sighs. _Wow, b_ _eing sick sure sucks ass…_ Looks longingly at the whole bag of stuff as the other guy twisted the pack closed and tossed it back in. Taeil looks over, sighing.

 

“It’s not all bad, Haechan —the doctors said you can switch to a liquid diet now instead of a clear liq—

 

“-But what’s the _difference,_ hyun—

 

Goes over, leaning into his ear. “-it _means_...you can have ice cream for breakfast tomorrow…”

 

His face immediately brightening, Hyuck leans back into his pillow, arms raised in victory, sniffling. “-ugh, yes, finally…”

 

**...**

 

**1:27 am**

 

Mark stands outside the hospital room, looking through the window, hands shoved in his pockets. Thinks about going inside to check on him, decides to stay outside a bit longer.

 

Never understood why some people thought others' sleeping faces were peaceful. He’d much rather see Haechan awake, though he knew he really needed the rest. He’s a lot easier to read when he’s awake. A lot easier to handle.

 

He knew how to direct things when Haechan was awake. Knew just what to say, what to do, to annoy him just enough so that Hyuck didn’t get pissed but still had some kind of reaction.

 

Joy, surprise, embarrassment —even anger, was better than the alternative. Luckily, Haechan was asleep for most of the day these past few days, but Mark knew every waking hour could easily feel like a nightmare if Hyuck fell into the wrong spot.

 

He talked to the doctor about having the guy’s phone taken away so he might be able to avoid some of the inevitable nonsense on the internet. But that might be invasion of privacy. Or violation of freedom. Something like that.

 

Most of the time when Hyuck slept, he was very quiet. He was also very still. Maybe even subconsciously, the body knew when it was injured. Even when he turned in his sleep, it was always his good side.

 

He wondered if Hyuck could feel pain when he was asleep. He knew you could feel pain in your dreams but it was usually unrelated to the waking kind. During his most stressful nights, he’d have recurring dreams where the inside of his mouth burned in pain as his teeth fell out. A common fear dream. Fear of failure.

 

Mark couldn’t be here for most of the day. Neither could the rest of them. That wasn’t likely to change any time soon. He knew texting wasn’t a great alternative, but he didn’t want to bug Hyuck with too many phone calls. Some people didn’t like the way their voices sound on the phone. He didn’t know if Haechan was one of those people. He didn’t know if Haechan cared about those things.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was handling this right. Was there a right way to handle it though? He didn’t want to turn every visit into a therapy session, but he also knew that pain was something that needed to be acknowledged. Sure, different people had different ways of doing it. But Mark felt like he was just trying to flat out avoid it with the way he was acting.

 

Maybe Haechan wouldn’t be able to immediately read that Johnny and Taeil’s behaviour. But on Mark, he’d know it in a heartbeat. So he hoped to God the guy wouldn’t resent him for it.

 

Blows against the glass, watches it fog up. Starts to draw smiley face, finds his finger drawing something else entirely. Watches the three Korean characters fade out into the surface.

 

“You ready to go?”

 

Mark’s shoulders jump, relaxing when he recognizes Jaehyun’s voice. Turns around, nods upon seeing the guy’s patient smile, but tired eyes. Yawns badly in attempt to hide their redness. Mark thinks he even sees some hints of him breaking out around the jaw.

 

_So it’s that bad, huh?_

 

“Yeah. Sorry. Made you bike all the way here with me at 3 am, just for me to…”

 

“It’s nothing, Mark,” He shook his head. “-I know you’re worried about him.”

 

Looks at the ceiling, his vision making the lights flare out at the edges.

 

“Are you going to tell me to worry more about myself?” Still doesn’t meet his eyes.

 

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Looks to the side. Dimples barely showing. “-we’re not stupid people. That doesn’t mean anything to us anyways.”

 

“It should, though,”

 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, running a hand through his greasy hair. “-yeah, it should. I’m sorry —I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying,”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“Really?”

 

When they get back outside, he hands Mark some more tissue paper. When the sleet doesn’t let up, he has to call Johnny to pick them up.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jan 3/19 update: 
> 
> i heard that haechan spent christmas with his family, so his injury is most likely milder than my predictions. in this case, it's not likely he had invasive surgery before his cast (the process mentioned below) and if doctors did have to reposition his bones, it would've been from the outside (i.e. closed reduction, 'closed' meaning 'without opening the skin' and 'reduction' meaning 'repositioning the bones to their original place'). this is also common for dislocated joints.
> 
> \---  
> so, what mark was talking about earlier was plate osteosynthesis. a little more on that here:
> 
> plate osteosynthesis is a popular method to prep spiral fractures for immediate rehabilitation (e.g. in the tibia) using screws and plates. The plates contain holes running down the length, large enough for the secured screw tops to go through. the motion of tightening a second screw into the plate drives the plate (and the already secured first screw) in a direction which further compresses the fracture gap in the bone. the plate and screws work like a leg brace, inside the leg. now, i'm not saying it's guaranteed that haechan had this operation done, but if he did have a spiral fracture, this is a common procedure that would have preceded his cast.


	3. iii. dec 22/18, 7:18 am

Haechan stared at the bowl of durian ice cream in his hands, not moving his spoon.

 

“You okay?” Turns to Doyoung, then looks back down. “-I...I don’t know, hyung...I guess I just don’t feel that hungry right now...”

 

“You sure?” Gestures to the bowl. “-you want me to get you a different flavour?”

 

“N-no, it’s not that…” Waves it away. “-it’s not the flavour or anything, I just —I don’t know —my stomach is just…”

 

“Are you feeling sick or something?” Shifts his chair in closer, examining the younger’s face. “-do you need to thr—

 

“-No, no, I’m fine. My stomach doesn’t hurt or anything...I’m just, like, not hungry…”

 

The other nods, taking the bowl back, still worried. Sets it on the table, notices the bags of medication already there. Squints, frowning. “-what is this...what's all this stuff…?”

 

“Oh, Mark got me a bunch of stuff after I texted him that I wasn’t—

 

“-Mark got you all this? All this stuff.” Picks out a carton, scans the label, still frowning.

 

“Well, I mean, yeah, yesterday I told him that maybe I was feeling a little constipated—

 

“-You sure Mark got you all this stuff? Like you saw him walk into the room and hand it to you—

 

“-Jeez, hyung, what’s going on —no, I don’t know for sure if he’s the one who got me all of it —I was mostly sleeping for the past few days —I would just find these on the table when I woke up—

 

“-So you don’t actually know who put these here.”

 

“-I mean, I, I’m _assuming_ it’s either Mark or the doctor—

 

“-Did you _take_ any of it?”

 

“Well, no —I mean, I drank some prune juice —like a tiny bit, but it tasted gross so I didn’t take anything else and went back to sleep…”

 

Watches the other dig through the bags to find the prune juice —examining the back of the bottle once he found it. “-okay...one hundred percent natural prune juice...ingredients...warnings…” Looks back up. “-okay, it should be safe —it’s not really medicine, more like a regular drink type of thing —you sure you’re not feeling unwell anywhere? Like no migraines, no stomachaches, no anything?”

 

“Yeah, hyung, I feel fine, just not hungry —what’s going on?”

 

Doyoung leans in, hands on his shoulders. “-listen. You need to be really careful, okay?” Continues in a quieter voice. “-if you don’t know who put the stuff on your table, don’t touch it,”

 

“Yeah, okay, sure...is there someth—

 

“-Please tell me you've heard about the incident with Yunho from TVXQ.” When the younger doesn’t say anything, he repeats. “-you seriously haven’t heard about it?”

 

“What —did something happen to him—

 

“An anti-fan gave him a drink at some event and it was laced with glue. He was vomiting _blood_ , Haechan.”

 

“So, you think—

 

“It’s not about what I think —what I’m saying is that not everyone here might be trying to help you. Look —before you take any medication, always read the label very carefully and before you drink it, you need to make sure it’s actually something the doctor prescribed to you.”

 

Glances over at the door, lowers his voice even further. “-some doctors actually treat patients so that they gradually get worse so they can keep them here longer and make more money off of the prescriptions. Taking more medicine isn’t going to make you better faster —if you aren’t feeling any kind of pain, don’t take anything, got it?”

 

Slides back, bends over to dig for something in his bag. Sets a row of water bottles along his table, throws the bagged medicine except the prune juice into his bag. “-I’m having these checked at home, okay? I’m not gonna have some psycho poison you over this shit,”

 

“Okay,” Haechan leans back against his pillow, feeling uneasy. “-so should I still try to keep busy? Like Taeil-hyung came over last night and said I should try to do some activity every day, does that make sense?”

 

Doyoung looks to the side, then nods after a while. “-yeah, that seems reasonable. If you just stay still in bed all the time, you’ll just get weaker —doing arm exercises and also working your healthy leg should be good for you. Actually, I’m gonna talk with the doctor soon and check when you can get out of bed and start using a wheelchair —you need to get outside and get some fresh air —staying alone indoors too long isn’t good for your mind…”

 

“Are you always this stressed?” Haechan chuckles, shaking his head. “-no, I mean, are you always thinking about all these things —like how the world works and stuff like that?”

 

Doyoung smiled, a bit embarrassed. “-yeah, I was a bit of a difficult kid growing up —I got into a lot of disagreements with my parents and whatnot.” Sighed, pressing his palms into his knees. “-it’s just not fair, you know? I used to get so mad all the time thinking about how adults try to control everything we do and now I _am_ one and…”

 

“And?”

 

“And nothing,” He laughs. “-nothing’s really changed. It’s just adults who try to control other adults now, I guess.” Shakes his head. “-sorry if all the stuff I said earlier scared you or anything. I’m sure the doctors here are fine and just trying to help —I’m probably just being overly pessimistic and thinking someone’s after you or us or something.”

 

“I mean, it’s not entirely unreasonable.” Haechan shrugs. Grins a little. “-we _are_ pretty famous…”

 

“Yeah, that’s true. Could be some idiot third-party member looking for some idiot scandal —God, they just build that stuff out of blatant bullshit these days…” Looks over at Haechan staring at him, snorting. “-what?”

 

“You sure swear a lot off-camera, hyung,” He giggles. “-they should cast you alongside your brother for some dark detective crime drama —I mean you’ve already done a couple OSTs, right?”

 

“That would be fun,” Laughs, wiping his eyes. “-hey, if I played the bad guy, you’d still root for me, right?”

 

“Duh,” Rolls his eyes. “-that’s badass —I mean you’re good in real life so doing that again would be boring as hell,”

 

“The bad guy usually dies, though, right? In those kinds of dramas.”

 

“Oh, trust me,” Haechan shook his head. “-rehearsing your onscreen death is, like, the coolest thing ever. We did Hamlet for our middle school play and I played Gertrude for the second half so I had to fake falling down dead after drinking the poisoned goblet —falling down realistically is hard, yo!”

 

Doyoung bursts out laughing. Gets up, stretching, looking over at the door before turning back to him. “-so I gotta head to practice now —you sure you don’t need anything? Like do you want me to get you any stuff from the downstairs cafeteria —they’ve got half-decent sweet and sour soup or wonton soup if you want to have some meat or—

 

“-I’m fine, hyung —seriously. You should get going —Taeyong’ll nag you if you’re late, haha,”

 

“Yeah,” Laughs, eyes facing away. “-sometimes he’ll yell something like ‘ _is Haechan still in the bathroom_ _or something_ ’ and then the rest of us will look at him without saying anything…” Looks at him, half-anxious. “-don’t tell him I said that, okay? He doesn’t like it when we tease him about it too much,”

 

Doesn’t say anything for a couple moments. Sinks a little further down, staring at his sockfeet, mumbling softly. “-I’ll get better soon, hyung —don’t worry.” Looks to the door, clearing his throat. “-you know what, hyung, maybe get me a bowl of sweet and sour soup and uh, sneak in a few wontons if you can…?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Turns around when he’s at the door, smiling reassuringly. “-be right back.”

 

**...**

 

**11:37 pm**

 

When he wakes up again, his room is dark and Mark’s asleep by his arm again. He sighs, nudging the other guy gently by the cheek.

 

He stirs, blinks, looking up at Haechan, mumbling. “-yeah, dude?”

 

“Hey,”

 

Grins, exhaling quietly through his nose. “-hey.”

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Yeah,” Shifts, rising from his spot a bit. “-whatchu need?”

 

“Nah, I mean, like, can I ask you about your, like, thoughts on something,”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Nods, waving his wrist. “-fire away,”

 

Hyuck looks up, trying to concentrate on the tiny bump pattern on the ceiling. Asks softly. “-am I allowed to feel unhappy?”

 

Mark looks at him, frowning, brows scrunched. “-what? Shit, of course you're allowed —what kind of question is th—

 

“No, I mean, _obviously_ I’m allowed to feel unhappy when I’m by myself, privately, and stuff —but like, whenever I’m around _people_ —can I really be allowed to —you know what, ‘allowed’ is a bad word for it —you know what I mean, right?”

 

He hears nothing for a while. Then Mark swallows quietly.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.” Gets up, goes over to the other side where his good leg is. Motions with his hand. “-scoot over.”

 

The other drags his still half-asleep body further to the right to allow Mark to climb up and lay back, resting his head on his left thigh, ankles dangling over the bed’s edge. Shifts to get more comfortable.

 

“I get what you’re saying. And I think you already sort of know the answer.” Says the rest more quietly, not meeting his eyes. “-you can’t. It’s not just you. None of us can.”

 

“Mark—

 

“If you’re ever unhappy about anything —you can tell me. You know you can talk to any of us —but keep quiet around other people. They don’t know you, they might turn it into something to use against you.”

 

“Yeah, Mark, I know —I know about all that,” He sighed, looking at some nondescript corner of the room. “-it just seems so stupid sometimes. Like people can’t really be stupid enough to think that we’re happy all the time, right?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what they think —we volunteered ourselves into a system, we have to work with what it gives us—

 

“Maybe you volunteered for this, Mark —I’m not sure if I did. I mean I was born here and all and honestly, how was I supposed to even know what I was getting into when I signed up for all this…?”

 

“Hyuck—

 

“-This country has one of the highest rates of suicide in the world —shouldn’t that be a sign that something’s wrong?”

 

Mark is silent for a while again. Both of them look visibly uncomfortable.

 

“I think we don’t know enough about the situation to criticize South Korea about something like that—

 

“-Does it _matter_ —is gathering info gonna change anything? I mean it depends on what we’re looking for, right? Are we looking for reasons why it is the way it is —or are we looking for reasons to _justify_ it—

 

“-Hey—

 

“-Look, I’ll just get to the point —I’m _scared_ , okay?” The other guy looks up, in the half-light, to an expression he’s never seen before on Haechan’s face. “-I’m so frickin'  _scared_ , like some dumbass kid —because I don’t know how long this thing’ll last.”

 

“What do you mean?” Mark propped his head up by the elbows, eyeing him oddly. “-what are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying I think we have limited second chances. I mean they’re letting me recover cause it’s the first time I’ve sustained an injury serious enough to require hospitalization —but what about later on?” Lets out a humorless laugh. “-I can’t guarantee I won’t get hurt again —some injuries are more likely recur if you’ve already experienced it once,”

 

“You think you’ll get hurt again? Are you serious?”

 

“I don’t _know_ —I’m saying that with the kind of training we regularly do, it’s a miracle if none of us ever gets hurt —it might not be me next time, it might b—

 

“-You can’t think like that —none of us can think like that. All we can do is try our best to take care of ourselves, within the boundaries we’re allowed. That’s literally all we can do if we wanna stay in.”

 

“I know. I’m just saying it frickin’ scares me.” Looks down at the curls of Mark’s hair. “-I mean, say I get hurt over and over again —they won’t keep _forgiving_ me—

 

“-Shit, Hyuck, stop —seriously, man, stop talking—” Ran his fingers against his own forehead. “-God, I’m gonna get your leg all wet with my snot again if you keep—” Shakes his head, half-chuckling. “-you’ve been reading the news too much lately, haven’t you?”

 

Shrugs, scoff-laughing. “-sometimes I just fall into a rabbit hole in my phone, yeah?”

 

Shook his head again, eyes still threatening to sting. 

 

“You should stick to more YouTube,” He sighs. “-lots of great stuff there —lemme send you this fantastic crack video where Taeyong’s everyone’s mom and trying to go through three days in one day—

 

“- _Three days in one day—_

 

“-You gotta watch the video —then it’ll all make sense,” He chuckles, eyes lighting up. “-oh, also, have you seen one Shrek every 0.5 seconds every 10 seconds for 2 minutes and Inside Baekhyun’s Head—

 

“-Oh, my God, Mark, _what_ the…” Breaks off laughing. The other scoots closer by his elbows, pulling out his phone from his back pocket, holding it so both of them could see the screen. “-here, lemme show you the Shrek one…”

 

When they’re done, Haechan’s stomach is sore from laughing so hard. He can even feel a bit of it in his leg, but shrugs it off after it goes away. Dips his face into Mark’s hair, jerking it away upon the smell. “-jeez, Mark —when’s the last time you showered?”

 

“Uh, like three days ago,” Mumbles into the bed, wiping stray drool from his lip. “-I’m hella stressed these days, dude —sometimes I just collapse on the bed and I’m out.” Cranes his face up, half-frowning. “-what, do I smell bad?”

 

“Like turtle tank.” Grins when Mark wheezes at the Cardi B reference. “-that bad, huh?”

 

_It’s a good thing you’re hot._ Haechan thinks, just stopping himself from saying it aloud. The other guy shifts upwards again, settling comfortably against Hyuck’s chest. Snorts when the other whines in protest. “-you’re crushing my heart…”

 

Grins. “-don’t I do that every day?”

 

“Yeah, no, seriously —I’m gonna go into cardiac arrest ‘cause of your bowling ball of a head —get off me, yo…”

 

Laughs. “-okay.” Moves to the other side of his chest. Other guy just looks at him. “-okay, do you _want_ me to smack you, or—

 

“-Hey, I’m just trying to annoy the hell outta you ‘cause it’s usually the other way around…” Still laughing. Then looks at him with those huge doe eyes, brushing some hair out of his face. “-it’s kinda funny,”

 

Rolls swiftly away when Hyuck tries to shoot him a kiss, almost falling off the bed. Saved by the other guy’s good leg, ankle just catching him by the waist. “-oh, what was that again about taking _care_ of ourselves, Mark Lee?”

 

Turns his head over, one seagull-brow cocked up. “-we just wanna have fun. ‘Cause we’re hot, and we’re y—

  
“Oh, _pbvfffff_ —” Almost kicks him over the edge for real this time, half-dying from second-hand embarrassment, other half genuinely grateful this guy exists.

 

 

 

 


	4. iv. dec 23/18, 4:13 am

“Mark,” Leans in closer, lightly haggling his shoulder. “-Mark, Mark, wake up,”

 

“Nngh…” Scrunching his nose, lashes fluttering. Shifts his shoulders, rubbing his sore neck. “-nn...yeah…?”

 

“Just get up for two or three minutes, okay?” Hyuck murmurs, already wiping the sleep dust from the other’s eyes. “-I need you to help me with something, please,”

 

“O-okay…” Yawns, throwing his arms back, grimaces when he hits the wall. “-um, what is it…?”

 

“There’s crutches over there by the door,” Gestures to a pair of long structures leaning against the wall, blending in with their shadows. “-go get them for me, hyung, I need to see if I can get up with them,”

 

“Hyuck, it’s 4 in the morning...just practice tomorrow afternoon or something…”

 

“No —I wanna do it now.” Sighed, looking to the side, frustrated. “-I should’ve started using them three days ago but the doctor said to wait three to six days before using crutches so I took your advice and _started slowly_ —so I wanna get to it _now_ , okay?”

 

“Are you sure you should be—

 

“The doctor _said_ I can —are _you_ my doctor now, Mark?”

 

“-I just don’t want you to _hurt_ yoursel—

 

“-You want me to hobble on one foot and grab them _myself_ —because _that’s_ what I will do if you don’t—

 

“-Okay, okay, okay —jeez, Hyuck, calm down. Alright, I’ll get them for you, wait here,” Pulls himself up to sit and slid off, shuffling over to get the crutches. Turns around. “-you should probably sit up too and position your legs over the edge of the bed then,”

 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll do that now,” Takes a deep breath, scoots into sitting with his elbows, dragging himself to edge with his hands, ignoring the sheets spilling to the floor. Breathes a bit heavily after he’s gotten to the right spot, shaking the tenseness off his arms. Feels his heart pounding in his throat when Mark positions the crutches under either of his arms.

 

“You sure you wanna do this?”

 

“Yeah.” Nods, arms shaking almost imperceptibly. “-the more I delay it, the weaker and scareder I’ll get.” Laughs, nervous. “-I ain’t chicken, okay, Mark-hyung,”

 

Shook his head, arms on his hips. Eyes flickering softly. “-never said you were. If you really wanna do it, you can do anything, you know,”

 

“Alright, I’m gonna get up soon so make the lamp a bit brighter so I don’t crash into a chair and break my other le—

 

“ _Hyuck_ —

 

“Okay, okay, yeah, not funny, I get it,” He chuckles. “-okay, stay close to me to I can lean on you if I get tired or something…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Comes back from brightening the room, standing a bit awkwardly beside him, the other still seat. “-uhh, should I put my arm around, um…”

 

“Nah, just stay close —I’ll tell you if I need anything.” Gestures with his chin at himself. “-I wanna —I need to get up by myself, okay? If I don’t learn now, it might be never,”

 

“Okay.” Nods, mouth in a tight line, nervous also. “-whenever you’re ready, Hyuck,”

 

“Okay,” Grips the supports in his hands, tightening his fists, breathing as evenly as he can, still preparing himself for the moment. Feels the floor with his working leg —testing the smoothness of the surface with his foot. Exhales one more time. “-okay, here goes —no, _wait, wait, wait_ —

 

“Yeah, yeah?” Does a onceover, not too anxious 'cause the guy hasn’t gotten up yet. “-what is it?”

 

“Okay, when I manage to get up for the first time, I might have to go back down real fast, like half a second later ‘cause I’m not used to it —don’t let me crash back, okay? I don’t wanna jam or break something —just like, grab my waist or something and help me get back down as slowly and gently as possible, okay?”

 

“Yeah. You got it, dude. I gotchu,”

 

“Okay,” He breathes, feeling a bit more at ease now. Laughs shakily. “-sorry about that. I just got scared again for a second.”

 

“No worries, man.” Shook his head, then nodded at him reassuringly. “-you got this, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Nods back, focusing on the tiles just ahead of his feet. “-I got this.” Takes another deep breath. “-okay, I’m gonna go up in one, two, three—

 

Grunts sharply as he feels the crutches dig hard into his underarms, contracting his abdominals, putting all his weight on his good foot. Doesn’t breathe —can’t feel himself breathe anyway, as he drives all his power into the two supports under him, his left quad tightening and straining to push himself off the bed.

 

Gasps when he’s halfway up, jerking his head at Mark anxiously —the guy’s responds immediately, securing one arm around his waist, the other under his weaker thigh, bringing him slowly and gently back to sitting. Less than a second later, Hyuck’s trying to get up again, repositioning his left foot closer in for better balance. Tests placing his crutches a bit more forwards, realizes it doesn’t help, shifts them back to their old position. “-okay, okay —one, two, thr—

 

This time he nearly gets to standing, but his wrists cramp up and he loses his strength in two seconds —Mark assisting him back down again. Breathes hard, loosening his grip, staring at his feet, then at the tiles, then turns to Mark. “-okay, gimme like ten seconds to catch my breath. I think I got really scared in the beginning but now that I stood up almost, it’s not that scary anymore,”

 

“Okay. Okay, yeah, no problem, man. Seriously —go at your own pace, I’m not gonna leave until you’re happy, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Nods, smiling faintly, still panting a little. “-thanks, hyung, really,”

 

“Like I said —I gotchu,”

 

“Haha, yeah,” More breath than voice. “-alright, I think I can do it now,” Shook his ankle a couple time, flexes his foot, rocking himself a bit to prepare for the movement. Closes his eyes, reassuring himself.  “-okay, one, two, three—

 

Surges up as fast as he can —he’s learned from the first couple times the longer he takes to rise, the more energy he wastes —wincing sharply when he feels something jangle in his bad leg. Like tiny metal pieces clattering inside. Still has enough strength to stay standing for more than a few seconds. Turns to Mark, left leg trembling a little from the uneven weight distribution. “-I can’t move. I can’t move. Oh, my god, I can’t move.”

 

“You wanna come back down?”

 

“No, no, no —I’m already standing here —if I go back down I don’t think I’ll be able to get up again —I’m not tired yet —I just _can’t_ move, like I can’t seem to _move_ from here—

 

“-Okay, look —you’re just scared, okay? You can do it, Hyuck —you can _move,_ okay —the only person who’s stopping you right now is yourself —you need to stop being scared and just say fuck it and loosen your arms so you can walk your crutches forward and hop with your working leg—

 

“-Mark—

 

“Look —I’m right here, dude —if you slip and fall, just lean into me and I’ll catch you and if I fall too, you’ll fall on top of me —either way I’m gonna fucking catch you, dude, so don’t be scared and just go—

 

“Okay, okay —I’m, I’m gonna — _no, no, no, no_ —I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do it, Mark—

 

“-No, _literally_ —say _fuck it_ —say that out loud, okay—

 

“-Is that supposed to—

 

“-I read somewhere that swearing kills stress levels, okay —it’s like a hit of nicotine, yo—

 

“-Okay, okay, okay —I’m gonna say it now—

 

“- _Just say it it, dude_ —

 

“-Okay, okay, okay — _fuck it, fuck it, fuck it_ —I can _do_ this—

 

When he exhales for the third time he finds his arms relaxing slightly and uses that momentum to swing the crutches forward, planting them firmly on the floor for half a second before tightening his grip again, transferring the weight to his palms and yanking himself forward as he swung his leg, good foot landing as gently as he can, breath trembling from the pain thrumming from under his cast.

 

Exhales, more easily than before, looking back up, staring at the door frame determinedly, takes a breath. Wills himself to soften his shoulders again, when he does, drags himself, strained leap by strained leap to the other wall. Looks down, grimaces. “-shit, how do I turn…” Looks over at Mark, but the other guy has no idea either. “-okay, dude, maybe you gotta, like, go backwards a little so you have more space at the front and then, like…”

 

“No, no, no —I think the nurse lady yesterday told me I just gotta pivot my strong foot, so—” Stiffly spun his heel, a few degrees to the left, in intervals, his arms with the crutches following his movements slowly. “-okay, stay here, I’m pretty balanced now but I might—

 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry —I’m right here, okay—

 

“-Okay, alright, yeah —I turned 360 now…” Sighs, leans against the wall. Looks at the other guy. “-can you maybe carry me back…?”

 

“Um, uh, a-actually I’m not sure if I shou—

 

“-I’m just kidding —lemme rest for a few seconds and I’ll drag my ass back to the bed —and lemme sit back down by myself this time, okay?” Exhales irritably, staring up at the ceiling. “-just realized I stood up wrong the whole time —that’s why it was so friggin’ hard —I’m supposed to hold both crutches on the side of my weak leg and grab onto a chair or table with my other hand...I’m gonna try to do that when I get back…”

 

“Alright, alright, dude —don’t stress yourself —you’ve already done so good, so don’t—

 

“-Okay, Mark, shut up —I’m going back now—

 

“Yeah, yeah, dude, you go do it—

 

“-I’m going, I’m going, I’m going — _fuck it_ —

 

When he’s turned so his back faces the edge of the bed, he holds out one arm against Mark’s shoulder for balance and maneuvers both crutches to his right side, gripping the bedside table with his other hand and slowly lowering himself back down. Slumps onto his back, letting out a long breath, blowing hair out of his face. “-hah, crap, I felt like I just ran a marathon…”

 

“Eh, you kinda did.” Mark shrugged, wiping some sweat off his forehead with a sleeve. Goes to put the crutches back to their old spot. “-that was a marathon in it’s own way, I guess,”

 

“Yuck, that’s cheesy as hell,”

 

He laughs.

 

Leans down to pick some fluff out of the other guy’s hair, recoiling when the stench hits him. “-jeez, Hyuck —when’s the last time _you_ showered?”

 

“Probably same as you,” Shrugged, eyes closed. “-I don’t exactly get around much around here, if you haven’t noticed…”

 

“What —the doctors or nurses or whatever don’t bathe you or anything?”

 

“-Well, I mean, they wipe my face with a towel and leave lots of skincare products on the table —I put ‘em in the drawer ‘cause you guys’re always bringing me stuff —come on, Mark, it’s only been six days —some guys don’t shower for a month—

 

“-And _that’s_ why they’re single—

 

“-Uh, so are we—

 

“Wha— Do I gotta _kiss_ you to prove that we’re dating—

 

“-That would be much appreciated, thanks—

 

“-Nice try, Hyuck,"

 

“Oh, _come on_ , Mark-hyung — _console_ me, I’m _wounded_ —

 

“I’ve got a better way to console you —come on, turn so your head’s over the edge of the bed —I got this cool clip-on shelf from Amazon —I’ll get a big plastic container filled with water from the bathroom and wash your hair—

 

“-will you kiss me afterwar—

 

“-No.”

 

“...”

 

**...**

 

**5:04 am**

 

When he’s convinced Hyuck to let his hair down, so to speak, Mark wastes no time to wet his head and squeeze a nice big dollop of shampoo along his scalp. When he works it into a fluffy lather, he looks down to see Hyuck eyes closed, looking as relaxed as ever (he was enjoying this for sure, he was just too cheeky to admit it). Smacking him lightly on the head, gets some pieces of foam on his face, grinning. “-smell that?”

 

“What?” Still moody though his face says otherwise.

 

“Smell the shampoo, dumbass,”

 

“-Okay, dumbass, _gimme_ a second…” Wipes some foam off with a finger, sniffs. Scrunches his brow. “-is this...strawberries?”

 

“Your favourite, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it’s _my_ shampoo…?”

 

“...”

 

“What?”

 

“...you really gotta talk like there’s a crutch up your ass, don’t you?”

 

“Want one up yours?”

 

“Can you reach it? I put it beside the door again, in case you forgot,”

 

“I’ll just javelin-throw you so you land ass-first onto one, Mark,”

 

“Can your arms handle that? I mean, you could barely get six steps around the room, an hour ago—

 

“-Maybe my arms need more practice, but my hands work fine —I could strangle you right now if you w—

 

“-I think you might wanna reconsider, considering the position I’m in right now —my hands _are_ on your head and it would be a whole lot easier for me to snap _your_ neck than you me—

 

“-Just shut up and _kiss_ me already, you idio—

 

Yanks him by the front of his shirt —shouting. “-aghh, _shit_ —Mark, your stupid teeth hit my _forehead_ —

 

“-Awgh, _plbvffff_ —” The other sputtered. “-and _you_ got all this icky foam in my mouth and neck…”

 

“Told you this was a shitty idea…”

 

**dec 24/18, 2:17 pm**

 

Hyuck had never been particularly consistent when it came to eating —it was just tough to always fit three equally sized, healthy meals a day when their schedule was either packed with practices or travelling or both, and these past few days've only made that worse.

 

He hadn’t been particularly hungry, so he’d just stuck with liquidy stuff like soups and juice and sodas but now on this particular afternoon he felt famished as fuck. Scoots his ass over to the mini fridge Doyoung had installed yesterday on the right side of his bed, flips the cover open and peers down, checking the contents. Four rows of assorted Thai ice creams filled the top shelf, the second filled amply with water bottles, the bottom, a variety of microwavable meals. Pulls out a carton of lasagna.

 

“Alright, peel one corner up and place in microwave for 2 minutes. Take out, remove entire lid, stir and place inside for another 30 seconds.” Looks up, moves his eyes around the room. There’s a microwave on a shelf by the door, about ten feet away from him. His crutches are in their old spot, by the door also, but right next to the door frame.

 

He could call for a nurse to come and heat it up for him. He also had a pride to protect (and his arms and brain worked fine now so he sorta wanted to solve this problem by himself…). Looks over at the microwave and then at his crutches, then back to the microwave. Does some mental calculations.

 

_Okay, if I can somehow manage to tip my crutches over so that the tops of them fall towards me, they’ll land about six to five feet away. Then I just gotta extend my good leg and drag them over with my foot. Then I bend over and pick them up_ — _no, no, no_ — _the bed’s too high, I’ll never reach it, I’ll just fall down and hurt myself_ — _I gotta somehow get the top of my good foot under the upper handle of the crutch and swing it up with my leg, do that one at a time. Okay, okay, good, good, sounds like a plan._

 

He sighed, already satisfied with himself before even doing anything. _Mark would be so proud of me._ Blinks, grossed out by himself — _ew, who cares about Mark_ — _dumbass wouldn’t even kiss me last night_ — _just finished washing my hair and left. I mean, he sorta kissed me on the forehead after he dried my hair with a towel, but doesn’t count because he felt bad because my leg’s hurt and shit._ Shook his head. _Dang it_ — _he should’ve just kissed me anyway if he felt bad abou_ —

 

Stops himself when he hears his stomach growling. _Okay, let’s forget about Mark right now, we gotta concentrate on food._

 

Stares at his crutches, wondering how the hell he was gonna make them fall down towards him. Looks over at all the other furniture in his room. _Okay, the snack bags are too light and it’s too hard to aim them to get the crutches to fall down so that’s bust. The medicine ball Taeil gave me is heavy enough but I’ll probably just hit the wall and scare the people outside. Exercise band’s also no use ‘cause I gotta cowboy lasso that thing and my mad ninja skills have went down by like nine points since my leg incident…_

 

Sighs, looking over at basically the only option left.

 

Drags himself over to the edge of the bed and just manages to reach over and haul the chair by its seat towards him. _I don’t even think the legs are long enough for this shit...can they extend or_ — _nope they can’t._ He looks back at the crutches, getting more frustrated by the second. _Okay, I gotta somehow extend one of its legs so it reaches where the crutches are._

 

Pulls open the bedside drawer —finds scattered pens, markers, elastic bands, the tubes of skincare products the nurses had given him yesterday. Tests the strength of one of the bands, it’ll have to do. Took a big breath. _Okay, here goes nothing…_

 

Roughly about six minutes later, Hyuck’s secured all the tubes, markers and pens to one chair leg, using the elastic bands, like a giant makeshift walking stick. Made sure to use more elastics closer towards the chair leg where the items were heaviest. Looks at his handiwork, not without a hint of pride. _Would sure be great if I could tie a big hook at the end…_

 

Finds nothing convenient in any of the drawers and decides, fuck it, rips off a bunch of sheets from the notepad and folds them over each other and fashions a half-decent hook out of them. _About as stiff as cardboard. Good, I’ll just secure it with another rubber band and then…_

 

The whole thing doesn’t go quite the way Hyuck expects it. Hooking the crutch and yanking it over so it falls towards him, is the easy part. What’s hard is getting it under his foot —it kept sliding away from him because of the kicking motion he had to make to try to pick it up. When it’s finally under his foot, the first time he tries to swing it up with his leg, it knocks him in the shoulder hard, and while he’s wincing from the pain, the crutch falls back down before he can grab it. Second time, third time, fourth time, his foot somehow manages to get caught in the crutch during the middle of the swinging motion —knocking it backwards into a different direction each time. It’s crashed onto the floor so many times now he thinks he hears the guy next door complaining about it.

 

When he finally manages to pick it up, it's by using his toes to grip it by the rubber end and slowly dragging his good leg up, knee bent, until he can grab the crutch and turn it 180 degrees so it faces the right way up. Thankfully, he gets the second crutch after a slightly shorter version of obstacles like the first one.

 

Peels a corner of the microwavable, sets it on the table. Gets off the bed the right way this time, realizes when he’s standing, he’s gotta somehow hold the microwavable too, but both his hands’ll be full. Shakes his head, lowers himself back down, gritting _fuck it_ for about the seventeenth time today and picks up the carton, gripping one unopened corner with his teeth. Realizes it’s not stable enough, clamps his whole mouth over one corner, wincing from mild brain-freeze.

 

Thanks God no one’s walking in on him now because that would be the weirdest shit ever and pushes himself up again. He’s done this last night already (or more accurately, this morning…) so getting to the microwave isn’t that hard —it’s keeping his balance while he punches the numbers in that’s a bit tricky, but he manages still. Decides to just stay near there, leaning on the wall, until the two minutes are over. Realizes when there’s twelve seconds left that he doesn’t have anything to stir it with —let alone _eat it_ and groans, journeying a long, very unromantic walk to the mini fridge on the other side of his bed and grabbing a plastic fork _and_ a spoon because what if he dropped one? (sure as hell, wasn’t gonna drag his ass all the way back here again…)

 

Gets back over to the microwave, stirs the half-frozen thing after peeling the whole lid (and letting it be after that piece of cardboard falls to the floor because who gives a shit anymore), stuffs it back in, punching in 55 seconds because he wanted _lasagna_ not _raw pasta in crushed ice_ , ready to throw himself out the window if it exploded in the machine. Thankfully, it doesn’t, and he haggles himself along the last leg of his tiring voyage back to his bed, realizing halfway he left his lasagna on top of the microwave.

 

Shuffles irritably to the drawer, grabs a handful of elastics and a somewhat firm sheet of paper and haggles back, wounding five elastics tight around the microwavable and the paper. Prays that his ultimate frisbee skills haven’t gone to complete shit and stiffly tosses his lunch, aiming for his bed. It lands somewhat in the middle, some tomato sauce spurting out at the edges, but it’s there, in one piece and not on the ground, so he praises Korean Jesus for making another day livable again.

 

After he’s shifted to a comfortable seating position on the bed, Hyuck opens the microwavable again and shoves a forkful of lasagna into his mouth, sighing in relief —less so from the mediocre actual flavour, more so from the taste of victory. Being almost independent never felt so good. He would keep this milestone as his own, happy little secret.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so while it's recommended for the individual to keep their leg elevated for at least 24-72 hours after surgery, there's a lot of debate for when they should start moving around in crutches, wheelchairs or walkers etc. three to six days afterwards seems to be a good fit --staying in bed too long tends to make the patient's body weaker and improving their physical abilities tend to get harder. haechan's quite young, so he'll naturally want to get up on his feet as soon as he can --which is better for him as long as he feels up for it. 
> 
> also, i'm going to try to cover all the important points i think are involved in his healing process but i'm human so i might forget some things, so if there's anything specific you'd like me to address in the story, let me know in a comment and i'll see if it works better if i just reply back, or include it in the story :)


	5. v. dec 24/18, 4:22 pm

_There’s not much time left so I gotta get this done now._ He’d called in the nurse earlier to let him rent a wheelchair (those things costed a lot more than he’d expected), no way in hell he’d be able to get that far in crutches. His strength was still spotty —maybe in a couple weeks he’d be able to get around well enough without losing his breath.

 

Looks out the window —the streets blanketed in snow, as it fell, still, blurring his view slightly. He’d have to get out there before it stopped —they’d start clearing it up then. It didn’t snow here often. He didn’t know when it’d snow again.

 

Still had to use his crutches to get into the seat though. Luckily, this time, he’s lain them right against his bedside table. Gets both of them under his arm, pushes himself up, makes sure to bear no weight against his cast. Pivots slowly and gently sinks into the wheelchair, left hand gripping the armrest. Tries to push forwards, wheels are locked tight.

 

Rolls his eyes at himself —of course the nurse put the brakes on, reaches down his right side to release it. Gently kicks down the footplates with his good foot, angling the the right one slightly upwards. Sighs in relief that the door’s still open. Stops just to dig into the clothing bag Taeil left by the door a while ago. Slips on a puffy lavender-aqua parka. Pulls on gloves, a single boot. Wheels his way into the hall.

 

_Alright from what I remember the elevators are down the right, so I’ll just keep going this way…_ Glad there weren’t too many people around this time, Hyuck didn’t know if he was actually allowed to leave the building without supervision (probably not). Oh, well. He wasn’t going to actually _leave_ the place. Just gonna go around the back, check out the public garden covered in soft, glittery snow. Maybe have some fun.

 

A few blue scrubs pass by, glancing over. _Just heading to the cafeteria_ he called if they stared too long. Was glad again that these people always seemed to be busy and didn’t have time to verify every claim they heard.

 

Almost misses the elevators, but they ding as more nurses and masks exit, along with a couple more patients in wheelchairs too. Greets them, bowing —they were a lot older than him. Rolls inside the spacious room, having just a little trouble turning so that he could press the button. _It’s_ _일층, right? Below that is just parking, I think._

 

Watches the tiny glass circle glow orange as the door slid closed. He liked buttons that glowed afterwards. Even machines had to have a little life in them, right?

 

_Like a tiny sun_ he thought, giggling. Since life had slowed down for him, he’s been able to notice these little things. It wasn’t all bad. Not all the time.

 

When the door opens again, he rushes to get out, but there’s no need —a woman outside holds the button for him, smiling, telling him to take his time. Asks if he needs any help. Nods when he shakes no.

 

Then before she turns to leave, Hyuck asks if she can go with him down the lobby and hold the side door open. Says he’s meeting friends, looks to the side, embarrassed. Knows she sees the embarrassment for something else when she agrees.

 

Thanks her with a bright smile as he headed out, wheels jumping a little from the curb, laughs. Blushes a bit when she tells him he reminds her of the sun, somehow.

 

The cold wakes him more, stinging his ears. He zips his parka further up, getting most of his neck, grimacing at forgetting his scarf. Finds that rolling against the snow is at least a bit harder than smooth linoleum.

 

Looks around, spots a blue sign pointing him to the garden. Has a bit of trouble turning again, so lifts off his seat slightly to yank his chair a bit closer in the right direction, left quad cramping, trembling slightly off-balance. Pants. Wheelchairs also weighed a lot more than they looked.

 

There’s almost no one out here, though he hears the distant hum of voices, clothes bustling against the wind. Children running around, laughing and shouting. The swish and poof of snowballs being thrown.

 

He hears it before he sees it —the muted clanging of the gate blowing against the fence. Wrought iron, deep green paint peeling a bit. When he was little, once, he’d pressed his tongue against an ice cold pole and gotten it stuck until one of his teachers splashed on warm tea from their canteen. Had gotten detention that day, but the teacher was kind and they just ended up painting together. Rest of his friends had to run around in the cold, playing the aptly named freeze-tag.

 

Trees looked so strange when they were covered in snow. Something alien, sea anemones in heaven. Rolls towards a fluffy bough, carves a smiley face along the white surface. Smacks it, watching the icy powder scatter, tickling his face and throat.

 

Breathes in the cold air, eyes closed. Feels alive, really alive, for the first time in weeks. Sure, things like dorms, stages and studios were real too. But something about this felt different, somehow.

 

Settles next to a bench, four cement bars covered an inch thick with snow. Gets out his crutches from behind him, slowly raising, then lowering himself onto the bars. Inched just to the edge and carefully lowers himself onto the snowy ground. Slid just far enough so he could extend his arms and legs fully out.

 

Swung them back and forth, except for his cast leg, making a snow angel with a gown flared out on one side. Stops when he feels the bumpiness of the frozen ground beneath. Lay there, just lay there for a while. Staring at the sky.

 

The December sun shifts from behind the clouds and Hyuck turns his eyes away. Still feels its glow along his vision’s edge. When they drift over it again, he watches the rays peek out from the edges. Breathes again, wincing when he feels some of the snow creeping around his neck.

 

_I should get up, start heading back now. It’s winter_ — _it’ll get dark soon._ But his limbs lay heavy against the earth. Tries to swing them like he did just minutes ago —no response. Breath rattles, heartbeat feeling strained. Breathes louder, trying to even it out. The hollow, weak sounds that follow only terrify him further.

 

Watches the sun morph into a ceiling light. Feels the ground melt into smooth, hardwood floors. Hears voices shouting, bodies around him racing —all in slow motion as if he was underwater. Sees Mark leaning over him, veins in his neck tight and trembling, his mouth screaming at him, cheeks pulled taut and hollowed out, tears streaming down his face. Shaking his shoulders as if he would rip him apart if he didn’t answer him.

 

He wants to answer him. Wants to give him a sign he’s still here. But his mouth can’t seem to move.

 

Then comes the pain.

 

He’s grateful that by now his vision has gone out completely —as the fire relents on and on, twisting and tearing through his leg like a chain of nails. Makes the blackness behind his eyelids go red.

 

When he comes to, he feels much colder than before. Slips off his gloves, finds his face soaked in tears. Lips still trembling, his breathing cut irregularly by throat spasms. Shoulders skipping at each gasp. A phantom-like pain strangling his right calf.

 

Nearly slips several times when he tries to get back in the wheelchair. Lands well enough, not as well as he should —feels the cold-hot jangling pain in his leg again. Presses his fists against his eyes. Trembling, fingers aching from the cold.

 

Cries in choked gasps, not caring who heard him.

 

Didn’t stop after the pain did. Kept crying until he was sure he lost six days worth of tears. Pretending to be happy never felt so exhausting.

 

Wondered how people managed to do it every day. Wondered how _he_ managed to do it (almost) every day until now.

 

Makes a mental note to watch at least three sad dog movies with Mark or Renjun every month so he could sneak in a few minutes of much-needed sobbing sessions every now and then. Laughs a little. Wipes his eyes. Stares at distant movement in the streets for a while.

 

When he’s back inside, the heat makes his head spin. Wheeling back to his room, Hyuck catches sight of Jaehyun making his way down the hall. Shouts, waving at him. The other sees him and jogs over, following him in.

 

Takes a seat on his bed, as Hyuck adjusts himself so he’s sitting next to him. Leans his cold cheek against the guy’s neck, snorting softly when he flinches a little. Glances down at him, smiling on one side. “-been outside?”

 

“Yup,”

 

“Had fun?”

 

“A little,”

 

“Your face is cold…!”

 

“Yeah,” Lifts his cheek, tries his best to meet his eyes.

 

“Your eyes are really red,”

 

“It was really cold outside, hyung,”

 

“So cold your eyes turned red?”

 

“Yeah, hyung,”

 

Pauses. Looks at their feet, nudging the sides of their legs together.

 

“Really heavy weather, huh?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

Pauses. Looks at him softly. “-feel better now?”

 

Smiles shyly, mumbles. “-yeah,”

 

“Good,” Brings an arm around him, squeezing gently. “-that’s good. Heavy weather is good once in a while,”

 

“Mmhm. Sometimes it is, I suppose, hyung,”

 

“Really, it is. Clears up the air well, you know?”

 

Snorts. “-are you gonna be a poet when you retire from idol business?”

 

Smiles, dimples breaking slightly. “-maybe,”

 

Nudges his shoulder. “-hey, give your dongsaeng a discount on your first book, okay?”

 

Laughs. “-okay,”

 

**…**

 

**11:12 pm**

 

“...”

 

He feels a figure leaning over him, voice reaching him several seconds late.

 

“...”

 

The blurred sight comes into focus, he could recognize that face from anywhere. Seen him in enough hairstyles for that.

 

“What the _hell_ were you doing outside?” Mark demanded.

 

“Hyung, I—

 

“-Some custodian found you passed out in the _south parking lot,_ ” Grips the shoulders of his shirt, jaw taut. “-hell, I _ran_ all the way from practice _—_ just to make sure you didn’t _die_ from _hypothermia_ or someth—

 

“-I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about  —I just went to the garden around back and then came _back_ —I even ran into Jaehyun in the hall and we hung out for a b—

 

“-You _ran into Jaehyun_  —wha — _when_ exactly did this _happen_ —

 

“-I, _I_ _dunno_  —quit _yelling_ at me, hyung  —I can’t _think_ _clearly_ when you’re—” Palm digging into his forehead, anxious. “-like, _I dunno_  —4:30 pm to 5—

 

“-That’s funny, that’s really fucking funny —because at _that_ time _Jaehyun_ was with the rest of us for a _practice rehearsal_  —he was nowhere _near_ here—

 

“-Okay, _fine_  —so he _wasn’t_ here, _so_ _I messed up_  —but _you_ were here last nigh—

 

“-Oh, _I_ was here, is _that_ righ—

 

“-You came in at around 11 pm or something  —then you fell asleep and I woke you up at 4 am to help me practice with the crutches, then maybe you left at around 6 or 7 am or someth—

 

“-Okay, so _here’s_ what I think you’re saying,” Mark cuts in, looking like he wanted to smash the table beside him. “- _I_ came to visit you at 11 pm, fell asleep, woke up _still_ in your room and stayed until 6-7 am and _somehow_ managed to make it to practice which usually starts at 6 am but had to start at _5:30 am_ this morning because we had a Christmas show at 8-10 pm  —now does _that_ sound _logical_ to you _at all_ —

 

“-I don’t _know_ what the hell you’re saying, Mark-hyung,” His voice visibly trembling. “-are you saying I _imagined_ the _whole_ thing—

 

“-Hyuck, you weren’t even _awake_ for most of the time between 11 pm - 4 am —the nurse did an evening checkup and found out your leg got _infected_ and then they had to reopen your wound, get it cleaned, remove the infected tissue, drain fluids—  

 

“- _Bullshit—_

 

“-Then they put you under _anesthesia_ , so you might’ve—

 

“-Well, what about _before_ that then, huh?” He demanded. “-what about the day before yesterday? And the day before that? Are you saying I’ve been in some fucked up _coma_ for the past few days and _imagined_ that Johnny, Doyoung and Taeil-hyung came here _too_ —

 

“No, Hyuck, they _came_ here, but they arrived really late at night  —usually you were already asleep.” He shook his head, frustrated. “-look, we all _care_ about you —but we’re only human  —we can’t be in _two_ places at once…!”

 

Sighs, looking away. “-look, Hyuck, in the first few days, you complained that the pain was really bad. So the doctors gave you stronger painkillers after it was safe  —even after they wear off, your brain might’ve been a bit disoriented and you might’ve mistaken some of the workers here for us,”

 

The younger scoffed at him. For a couple moments, he couldn’t even form words.

 

“How can _that_ ev—

 

“-There’s some med students who’re doing placement training here,” Mark explained, rolling his eyes. “-they aren’t allowed to prescribe you anything or administer anything on you but they can talk to you about your injury and the operation, safety measures  —or try to cheer you up or something,”

 

Hyuck looked at him, like he was ready to set him on fire.

 

“You’re lying. You’re lying to me,” Laughed in disbelief. “-you’re just lying to me right now, Mark-hyung,”

 

“Hyuck—

 

“-And you’re fucking terrible at it,”

 

“Hey—

 

“You think I don’t know about all this?” Hyuck asked quietly. “-hyung, we spend enough time around each other, our habits aren’t that much different anymore. I know what you’re trying to do. And I’m telling you, it’s not working.” Shook his head. “-you can’t handle everything the same way and expect it to.”

 

“Then tell me.” Sighed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “-what exactly do you think I’m trying to do…?”

 

Wipes some crusts out of his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shifting up until he’s seated, adjusting his pillow against his back. “-you’re trying to distract me, right? From all this stuff. You’re afraid to let me deal with pain by myself, or you just don’t want me to, whichever one it is.”

 

“...am I wrong for doing that?” Doesn’t meet his eyes.

 

“That’s not the point,” He laughs. “-sometimes what’s right isn’t what works. You only see me for a few hours in the day. What do you think I do when you guys aren’t here, huh?” Picks at the skin around his fingernails, snorts. “-you think I haven’t tried distracting myself for all this time...?”

 

When Mark doesn’t say anything, the other finds it awkward to continue, but goes on anyways.

 

“Sometimes I need to feel what I’m actually supposed to feel, Mark-hyung. The way normal people can.” Shakes his head, still trying to lighten it with a laugh. “-does that even make sense? Like I just need to feel things without feeling the added shame that I’m feeling it.”

 

“It makes sense. I get it, I get what you’re saying.” Looks down, pained half-smile. “-is that...do you feel like that every day, now?”

 

“Well, it’s not like it’s the first thing that wakes me up in the morning,” Chuckles. “-it’s more like a weak migraine that comes and then fades. But you know, it didn’t just start after I hurt my leg. It’s been here for a while now.”

 

The other nods, picking out a piece of dandruff from Hyuck’s hair. Doesn’t know how to answer him with words. Musses his bangs slightly, makes them look fluffy. Someone’s stomach gurgles. Laughs. Bends over to get some leftover galchi jorim, Haechan breathing in the sharp spicy aroma, satisfied, as Mark screwed open the thermos lid.

 

“Haven’t had this in a while.” The younger sighed, smiling. Pauses. “-maybe we should share. My appetite hasn’t fully returned yet, hyung.”

 

“Sure.” Hears some more rustling and clattering from inside his backpack when he bends down again. “-I brought extra chopsticks anyways.”

 

**...**

 

**11:47 pm**

 

“Okay, okay —hold on tight, Hyuck  —we’re almost up,” Grimaces, yanking himself up another two steps. Looks up, sighs —there’s still five more and the ladder was making bad creaking noises the higher they went.

 

Doesn’t know how long it is when they’ve finally made it out on the roof, but Mark realizes his whole back is drenched when Hyuck lets go, quietly slipping down. Grabs onto a nearby pole, cold, wide and scattered with dust —likely connected to the water system in this place. Tries to keep his bad leg extended, not hitting anything, all the weight in his other foot. A crash sounds a couple minutes later and Mark reappears, unfolding the wheelchair and pushing it along to where Hyuck was.

 

“You know, I tell myself that this is the best case scenario.”

 

Stares at Mark, earnest, after they’ve both settled by the edge of the roof.  “-really, I do. I mean, leg aside, the whole experience really hasn’t been that bad. I’ve gotten more sleep than I have in months. You guys going out of your way to make sure I’m doing okay. Even just the fact that SM is giving me time to recover from this.”

 

Looks out into the city, laughs. Shrinks his hands behind his wool sleeves. “-they easily could’ve punched a bunch of nails into my leg and threw me back on stage. I wouldn’t have had a choice. They could’ve done that, hyung. Just let me tear my leg into shreds until I became unemployable.” Adds quietly. “-they wouldn’t have been the first company to do that.”

 

“Jeez, Hyuck...” Mark says after a while, adjusting the thick blankets around the guy’s back to keep him better covered up. “-you sure got major depressing ways of comforting yourself... You really think this is the best case scenario?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, it could be way worse than this.” Leans his head against the back of the chair, staring up at the dark sky. “-after the number of times Taeyong-hyung slipped and fell in that Apple Music gig, I thought he’d be the first one this kind of thing would happen to.” Turns to him, not quite meeting his eyes. “-you saw him, didn’t you, hyung? He was _limping_.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, Hyuck.” Shook his head. Digs in his pocket, offers the younger a mint. Pops it into his own mouth when the other shakes his head. “-but seriously, don’t think about that too much, okay? He got better right away —and so will y—

 

“-That’s not what I’m scared about. You know, maybe being cooped up in here gave me too much time to think, but I feel like we’re brushing off something really important.”

 

“Which is...?”

 

“That we have no real power here, Mark-hyung. It’s the management that made us, it’s gonna be them that destroys us too.” Cuts Mark off before he says something. “-I’m glad this didn’t happen to Taeyong-hyung —because I’m not sure if they would have let him recover. The leaders always have it worse.”

 

They both say nothing for a while. Watch a few airplanes, mere dots of red, skate across the night sky.

 

“Yeah. That’s probably true,” Turns to him, folding and unfolding the wrapper his hands. “-you know, whenever we mess up, he probably takes the brunt of it, behind closed doors. If it’s not the people above him scolding him, it’s likely himself.” Sighs, tossing the foil over the ledge. ”-I’m not sure what’s worse, to be honest.”

 

“See, it’s this whole thing that bothers me. I mean, even the fact that I’m still _in_ here, it’s not a good sign. Presses his palms over his eyes, wrists shaking. “-I should be out of here, you know? I should be _out_ of here already.”

 

”Hey--

 

“I should be _out_ of here by now, okay?” He repeated, glaring at the cold, glittering skyscrapers. “-I checked online  —the typical hospital stay for leg fractures is 3 to 5 days —it’s been _six_ days now  — _I want to go home._ ”

 

“Hyuck—

 

“-I want to make things _easier_ for you guys _too,_ don’t you get it?” He continued. “-do you think I _like_ that you guys are dragging yourselves all the way here at odd hours —if I was _home already,_ you wouldn’t even have to travel extra to see me.” Wipes his eyes. Doesn’t like it here as much as he thought he would —it was too dark up here, all he could really sense was Mark’s voice. “-you think I don’t _know_ you guys are tired? I want you guys to get more rest too  —especially _you_ , Mar—

 

Cuts himself off, coughing, snot clogging his throat. _It’s too cold out here, shit._ “-you’re tired because you work too much. Maybe a lot of these things aren’t your choice, hyung, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take out a couple minutes to think about what you’re gonna do after all this,”

 

“After all this?”

 

Smiles faintly, stuffs his hands into his cold pockets.  “-we can’t do this forever,” Shrugs. “-better to start planning now rather than later, right? Standard labor market isn’t exactly a piece of cake to break into either, haha.”

 

Shook his head, still shivering under his three layers of jackets. “-we need to focus more on the present, Hyuck. Or the near future, like what’s gonna happen tomorrow.” Waves it off. “-if we get too caught up in what’ll happen to us ten, fifteen, twenty years from now, we’ll probably find ourselves in that position several years early,”

 

Rolls his eyes. “-I just want you to figure out whether you wanna be an office worker or a mafia gang member when you’re thirty, Mark-hyung,” He snorts softly. Still a bit upset. But healing. “-not saying you gotta have your whole life down to your funeral planned out,”

 

“Well, to be fair, I do have _some_ aspects of my funeral planned out. Like, first off  —if they don’t play _Exo Monster_ as they carry my coffin down the church  —Imma rise up from the dead and _spiritually_ project that song myself through every speaker within a 50 mile radius,” Chuckles. “-also, I doubt our options are limited to just those two things, Hyuck…”

 

“I guess not,” Laughs in reply. “-that shit’s just too regular, huh?”

 

 

**dec 25/18, 7:12 am**

 

“...really happened so fast, didn’t it, hyung? Just a few more months and that’s it, huh.”

 

“Huh? Oh.” Haechan turns to Renjun, sitting next to him on the grass. The flag lays crumpled under their legs, the edges fluttering from the wind. Some distance away, Mark stands, back facing them, discussing something with the cameraman. Motions with his hands, seems so serious, even just from behind, Haechan can’t help but laugh a little. So does the man in reply.

 

“Is it a bad thing? For time to pass by faster, doesn’t that mean we had a lot of fun?” Watches Mark’s shoulders shake as the guy laughs, nodding —feels something odd, knowing exactly what expression he’s making without seeing his face. It’s not something as simple as happiness, humor. There’s something else there.

 

“I guess so —that’s not what I mean though, hyung. Sometimes I just wonder about it, I guess —don’t you wonder about it too?”

 

“About what?” It’s a confusing kind of happiness. You’re sad too. You’re angry. You don’t completely understand what you’re feeling.

 

“About whether or not you’re okay —with all this. I mean, I know it’s kinda late and all to mention it, but,” Glances down, watching a trail of ants skitter home, breadcrumbs in their mandibles. “-this is it, for us at least. We’re gonna grow up like this —we already have, up until now, technically.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, that’s the way things are, right?” Laughs softly when the younger thinks he’s belittling him again. “-no, I mean, it’s tough, you know? Some days I’m okay with it, and on other days I’m just like screw this shit and all the weird rules and whatnot. But I also think it’s the same. For everything.”

 

“Everything?”

 

“Yeah.” Plucks a strand of grass, attempts to blow a whistle out of it. Rolls his eyes when Renjun snorts at the wormy buzz that emits instead. “-you know, no matter what somebody’s childhood is like, there’s always times when they’re like ‘I wanna do this forever’ and then like ‘Sure glad forever’s not real’. We’re not that different from other kids. ‘Least on the inside, I don’t think so.”

 

“Jeez, I hope not…!” The other giggles, brushing the sand out of Hyuck’s hair. “-had a nightmare a couple nights ago that some surgeon opened up my stomach —and found a bunch of wires and blinking lights and shi—

 

“-Idiot,” Haechan laughed. Leans his head over his forearms, back against the grass. Renjun joins him a moment later. “-you’re reading _way_ too much sci-fi these days…”

 

“For real though, hyung!” But Hyuck knows the other boy’s just kidding anyways. Shoving his shoulder so he’s partially off the flag. “-Ex-Machina was some next level freaky sh…”

 

 

 

Haechan snorted softly, looking out the window as the snowy trees rolled past him. He did find himself drifting off into these kinds of daydreams sometimes, but this is the longest one he remembers having. Also the first time he remembers the conversation so clearly. It could’ve happened yesterday.

 

Maybe it did.

 

Maybe today is not today.

 

But then he looks down, and looks ahead —and indeed, today is today.

 

“Thinking about something, honey?” His mom calls from the driver’s seat. He can see her eyes crinkling in the rear-view. “-I heard you haven’t been eating very well —so I spent all day yesterday preparing meals for you to enjoy, haha,”

 

“Oh, eomma…!” He shook his head. “-I still can’t really eat a lot...you shouldn’t’ve troubled yourself that much...”

 

“Don’t be silly, Donghyuck,” She laughed. “-you know, after they phoned me last night telling me you could come home...I was so happy —I barely slept after that…” Shakes her head. “-they don’t let you visit us enough. You boys think you’re so good at hiding it on-camera, but I can see it.”

 

“Yeah? You can see it, eomma?” Mostly saying it to himself.

 

She nods, eyes on him, the road.

 

“You miss home.”

 

Makes a left, Haechan can see the familiar roof of his place sliding into view. “-I can always see it. You guys are still kids —sometimes I really wonder about the way they run these things...That good friend of yours —Mark, isn’t it? How long since he’s last seen his family?”

 

“A few years, I guess, eomma. Maybe more —it’s hard to keep track sometimes, you know?”

 

“I’m sure, honey,” Sighs, rolling into their driveway, tires grinding against the snow. Laughs. “-your father skimped a little on shoveling this morning —he’s tired too, why don’t you go lift his mood a little —he’s in the kitchen, making tteokbokki with the others.”

 

“Sure thing,” Swings the car door open, inches his legs out, crutches secure under his right arm. Nods when his mother hollers if he can get over the stairs by himself. Moments later, he’s sweating thickly underneath all his layers, left thigh sore, arms too, pressing the doorbell, hearing the drum of footsteps soon after. Hears the man behind the door pause, then call out towards where their kitchen would be.

 

Laughs as he hears more pairs of feet darting towards the door, faster, livelier —the sound of his younger siblings finally getting to see him again.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, so after this chapter, i'm gonna stop for a while. i think as of now, there's still too much speculation on how haechan is recovering. 
> 
> so i'm gonna wait a month and see if they let haechan perform with the rest of 127 for the january 26-27 concert --if they do, it may mean his condition is far more mild than my prediction. also hopefully by then, they'll have released more information about haechan's recovery too. then i'll tailor the course of the story to how his condition is improving at that point. so far the only addition info i've gotten is from a vlive where nct127 made a phonecall to haechan about how he's doing, but that's it. 
> 
> so thank you for reading the story up til now and see you in february :) and have a safe and happy new year!


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